PHI., ARM. _and_ BEL. That ungrateful fever!

TRI. _At your fair life her javelin throws._

PHI. _Fair life!_

ARM. _and_ BEL. Ah!

TRI.
_What! without heed for your high line,
She saps your blood with care malign..._

PHI., ARM. _and_ BEL. Ah!

TRI.
_Redoubling outrage night and day!
If to the bath you take her down,
Without a moment's haggling, pray,
With your own hands the miscreant drown._

PHI. Ah! it is quite overpowering.

BEL. I faint.

ARM. I die from pleasure.

PHI. A thousand sweet thrills seize one.

ARM. _If to the bath you take her down,_